Looking back on it now, it was nice to be at home for three weeks straight unable to get outside because the snow was so bad. I guess it confirms that memories for me are where I store the happy and get rid of the unhappy.

AT THE TIME, HOWEVER, I was going to kill my mom, dad, or brothers. Probably my 15 year old brother who has decided to become the epitome of everything I dislike in humans.

Many people might be under the impression that in Vancouver during the winter there is a lot of snow ALL THE TIME.
THIS IS FALSE!

It only ever snows on the mountains (if we are lucky) and maybe once a year the clouds will shit out a little white stuff to sprinkle over the grasses like icing on a christmas sugar cookie.

So after a while when it began to snow I scraped the rest of the ice off of my drive way, half of the road leading out of the cul-de-sac and went to find friends.

CELEBRATIONS WERE IN ORDER, WE GOT MCDONALDS AND THE CONTEMPORARY MCDONALDS ON MAIN STREET.

I also found a really beautiful sweater that I am going to wear every day untill it falls apart. LOOK AT THIS FUCKING FABRIC..

Later that night I went to Lyndsays house. Lyndsays house has been a few friends house in the past and I have basically lived there when coming home. GETTING REALLY FUCKED UP. There is a great collection of art from past and current inhabitants and remnants of old parties three years past.
These are some of the best paintings there:

I think this one got flipped upside down, but whatever.

Look at these drawings too. They were done by a group of people that meet at this place. When I came in that day they were drawing and I pissed my pants.

Lyndsay found this in a dumpster

SO THIS thing is from a show that was held in this house - the big hole to the right you would give a guy who stuck his hand up through the hole money. He would give you beer. The little hole on the left you got free asparagus.

THE BEST SCULPTURE!

Makes me question why I even bother to try and make shit when a bunch of bags in a bag holder is way more striking than anything i've looked at lately. Maybe when I'm 75 and owe 400,000 dollars on credit cards I can submit this too the Whitney Biennial and become pay it all back and be in lots of art shows after I'm dead.